


Prompt #025 Happiness

by kurgaya



Series: Divine Footsteps [19]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Translation Available, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 16:45:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/pseuds/kurgaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo, for the life of him, hadn't known what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt #025 Happiness

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Зарисовка #025 Счастье](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6340600) by [a_m](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_m/pseuds/a_m)



> Not the best thing I've ever written.

**Silence**

Ichigo supposed he fell in love the first time he heard Toshiro laugh.

They'd been in the tenth division office, Ichigo slouched on the sofa with his body angled towards the desk, one worn waraji trailed onto the floor and his other leg bent up to provide himself some stability as he nursed a cup of tea in his hands. Toshiro, per normal, had been behind his desk, his own cup of tea steaming beside his whittling pile of paperwork. Their conversation hadn't been anything special - Ichigo didn't remember what they'd been talking about, now - but the tone had been tired, the atmosphere heavy on their shoulders with the lateness of the hour. They would be parting for the night soon, Ichigo returning to the fifth division and Toshiro slipping away to his quarters, the dust gathered there from many sleepless nights a thing of the past. The last cup of tea had been the only thing anchoring their bodies together, and Ichigo had believed that making conversation at that point would have been pointless. The shuffling of papers was the only voice, wordless and yet saying so much, but he'd added a comment anyway, the wistful sentence clinging onto the conversation that had ended ten minutes before.

"I wonder where Rangiku-san is."

Toshiro had muttered something in reply, shaking his head as he reached for his tea, but then he'd stopped, creased his brow in surprise, and started to chuckle. Startled, Ichigo had peered over at him with an expression of bewilderment, a question on his tongue. The taicho had taken one quick look at him and then curled over himself, hurriedly smacking the cup back onto the desk as he started to laugh uncontrollably.

Ichigo, for the life of him, hadn't known what to do. He'd just sat there, mouth agape, and watched as the withdrawn, collected taicho clutched at his stomach and mouthed incoherent nonsense to himself; words that only fueled his amusement into side-splitting laughter. By the time Ichigo had decided that there was nothing to worry about, Toshiro's face was glowing red and he was gasping for breathe, his rich, deep laughter having knocked more than just his reservations out of the window.

"Hey," he said slowly, half way between grinning and gaping. "You okay?"

"Yes, yes," Toshiro replied, waving a hand as if it would help. He sat back in his chair, still holding his stomach, and positioned himself back into the demeanour that Ichigo had come to know. "I'm fine, excuse me - "

Another glance at Ichigo set him off again. Having no idea at what he'd done to cause such a reaction, the ginger just relaxed back into the sofa and hid a smile behind his cup. He was glad that Toshiro was comfortable enough with him to let himself go in such a way. Glad that Toshiro _was_ laughing, because it was lovely - _he_ was lovely - and Ichigo was...

In...love.

In love with a man a step away from rolling about on the floor for a reason not shared; unexplainable; and worth every single second.

And...he was okay with that.


End file.
